by Ayles, Abby
The earl chuckled. “I suppose you are right in that. And perhaps you are right about my son. He caught you, after all.”
“I dare say, my lord, that you overestimate me.”
The earl shook his head. “Not a bit. You remind me very much of my late wife, you know. I have not told John as much. I think it would upset him. And by the time she had children she was much calmed down in manner.
“But she had a fire and a spirit in her. She kept me from becoming a tyrant.” The earl chuckled at Natalie’s expression. Some of her surprise must have shown on her face. “You think that I am not aware of my own faults?
“I am a stubborn man, I know. John is stubborn as well. Perhaps I should have been more tolerant of that. More aware of it. But my wife was always very good at, shall we say, making me aware of my missteps.
“It seems to me that you are well suited to doing that with my son. He is a stubborn man, as am I. And you, I suspect my dear, could use a little dampening yourself. You have your own temper I’m sure.”
Natalie smiled. “I’ve been told something of that nature from time to time.”
“Well then, there you have it.” The earl smiled at her weakly. She hated to see him like this. He looked so frail.
“You should rest,” Natalie told him. “Save your strength.”
The earl sighed. “I am perfectly aware of my health, Miss Natalie. I am not a fool. I know that it is time.”
“You shouldn’t say such things, my lord,” Natalie protested. “You may well make a full recovery. But not if you have those kinds of thoughts about it.”
“There is a difference, my dear, between optimism and denying the facts.” The earl sighed. “This has been coming for some time.”
“Your children will not like to hear you say that.”
“My children have to accept the truth of their father’s mortality eventually,” the earl said crankily.
Natalie did not allow him to irritate her. She merely smiled. “Well, given how their father is, I doubt they will take to it kindly.”
She bit her lip. “Perhaps, however this ends up, my lord, you might be kinder to your son. That is all that I ask. He is a good man. I think that you have underestimated him.”
The earl gave her a piercing look. Natalie stared right back at him and did not let him intimidate her. She had dealt with the advances of men on the dance floor. She had navigated the gossip of the ballroom.
The earl was a powerful man but at the end of the day he was still human. He was a sickly one as well. She would not be cowed by him, not with just a stern look.
After a moment the earl sighed. He seemed to deflate a bit and sink further into his pillows. “You are right. It is not easy for a man, especially an old one of my status, to admit that he might need…to do something like apologize.”
“It is not my place to question your behavior, my lord, I know that,” Natalie replied. “But it seems to me that a son cannot learn to respect his father if his father does not show him how by respecting his son.”
“You are a clever one,” the earl mused. “I hope that my son will have the intelligence to hold onto you.”
“He has me,” Natalie assured him. Whether Lord Ridgecleff wanted her was another matter altogether. But he had her heart.
“Very well. I shall think on what you have said.” The earl closed his eyes.
“Take some water,” Natalie insisted.
The earl watched her as she finished helping him drink and set the glass aside. “Yes,” he said, as if to himself. He nodded. “Yes.”
Natalie was not sure what exactly that meant. But she had the feeling that she had passed some great test.
She only hoped that her words would have an effect and that the earl would indeed try to apologize to Lord Ridgecleff.
She did not have an optimistic view of the earl’s health. Every breath seemed labored. It took him a long time to speak. His skin was hot, yet he shivered.
But if these were to be his last few days, then she hoped fervently they were at least good. She wanted him to spend his last couple of days the way that her mother had not: surrounded by family who loved him.
Her mother had been alone. She did not want the earl to be. And she did not want him to be wasting his last breaths arguing. She wanted him to spend them happy.
She settled back into her chair as the earl began to fall back asleep. She would keep watch. It was the least that she could do.
Chapter 36
John awoke for a moment in the night. He heard voices, low murmuring ones. He recognized them as his father and Miss Natalie.
But before he could understand what they were saying, he slipped back into sleep.
When he awoke again, it was with a start.
He was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs by the bed. Someone had draped a throw over him.
His gaze went at once to his father. The earl was asleep. His breathing was still labored and it appeared that the cloth on his forehead had been changed out.
“Are you quite rested?” Miss Natalie asked.
John turned to see her sitting up, awake, in a chair of her own.
She smiled softly at him. “My inadvertent nap was enough for me, it seems. I thought it best someone keep watch.”
“You should have let me.”
“You needed the sleep. I would not disturb you when I could merely wake you if the need arose.”
He supposed that she had a point. Still, a part of his conscience did not sit well with the idea that he had slept while she had kept vigil. It was his father and not hers. Surely the responsibility was his.
But he was grateful to her. He had fallen asleep without even realizing it. His father had woken up at some point. John knew that he had heard their voices. He would have been in no state to care for him. But Natalie had.
Natalie had looked after his father when it was far from her responsibility.
John smiled at her. “Thank you. I suppose that I did and I’m grateful to you for it.”
She looked taken aback. “I must admit, my lord, I thought to find some obstinance in you about this.”
“I did consider that. But then I thought it would be an inconsiderate way to thank you for your kindness.”
“My kindness? Careful, my lord. Or I shall start to believe that you actually think highly of me.”
The tone was teasing but her eyes were sad as she said it. John startled internally. Did she think that he did not think well of her? Had he not made his growing regard known?
The thought of Miss Natalie laboring under the assumption that he still thought ill of her upset him greatly.
He stood up, partially so that he might stretch. But also partially so that he might impress upon her the seriousness of his next words.
“I hope that I have managed to convey to you the seriousness of my gratitude,” he told her. “And how much I’ve seen growth in your character.
Natalie smiled. “Come now. I fear your father’s condition has put you in a maudlin mood. There will be plenty of times for you to assess my character when your judgment is more clear.”
“Perhaps my judgment is muddled,” John replied. “But it is true to how I feel. I am grateful, immeasurably so, for your assistance in this trying time.”
Miss Natalie nodded. “Of course. It is the least that I could do or would wish to do.”
“You ought to get some sleep now,” he told her. He had napped enough. He would keep vigil now.
Hopefully the fever would break and Father would begin his recovery. If not…
Either way, John wanted to be awake.
Miss Natalie frowned. “I would not wish to leave you alone for too long.”
John glanced at the clock. It had been some hours, now. “Perhaps instead you could help my sister with rising. If you insist upon helping.” He gave her a smile to show that he was teasing and did not mind her insistence. “Have breakfast ready for her? Make sure the household is in order?”
Miss Natalie cu
rtsied. “Of course, my lord. If you think that’s what would best help.”
“I do.”
Miss Natalie gave him a smile and exited the room.
Part of him wanted to call her back at once and tell her to stay. He missed the warmth that she exuded. It was a warmth he did not even realize was owed to her until she left.
But Emma would be rising soon. It would be best if she had a friend waiting for her to help her prepare. And someone had to look after the household. He would not make either of his siblings do it.
John sat up and watched his father. The elder man got worse at one point, moaning. At another point he seemed better, breathing shallowly but more easily.
He could hear the household beginning to wake up around him. A part of him itched to get up and move around. Begged for something to do, no matter how trifling, or else he should go mad.
But he couldn’t leave Father. If he left or put someone else in his place and something should happen while he was gone—he would never forgive himself.
Instead, he stayed.
Edward entered in a short bit. “How is he?”
“Mostly unchanged,” John replied.
Edward scrubbed a hand through his hair, a sure tell of his distress. “I tried to see to the household, but your future wife is managing things quite well on her own. She all but shooed me out of the way. Told me to come up here and be with my father.”
“She is rather strong-willed, isn’t she?” John smiled fondly.
Edward smiled back, albeit still tired and stressed. “You are well suited for one another. I appreciate her taking over. I could not give the household duties a proper managing if I tried.”
John nodded. “Miss Natalie lost her own mother, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“Yes, I did hear something to that effect.”
“None of the family were present when the woman died. I think that Miss Natalie wishes to spare us that pain. She wants to make sure that we are assembled. Should the worst come to pass.”
Edward frowned. “And this is the young lady that you once told me was shallow and cared for nothing but parties?”
“She has changed,” John told his brother.
“As have you,” Edward noted.
“I’m sure I shall have changed even more by the time you return from the Continent,” John said. “No matter how it ends with Father…he cannot forbid you from traveling as I did. You deserve to enjoy the world and sow your wild oats a bit.”
“I appreciate it,” Edward said. “I admit there was some…envy on my part. That I was stuck here while you got to run off. But I knew that it was to spite Father in a way and that you must not be truly happy in your travels because of that.”
John nodded. That was a good way of putting it. “Well. I know that you will enjoy your travels and experiences to the fullest.”
Father stirred on the bed, his eyes opening. “John?”
John was at his side in an instant. “Yes, Father. I’m right here.”
“Prop me up, would you?”
Edward came forward and helped John to redo the pillows so that their father might be propped up by them.
“Good.” Father nodded. Then he looked straight at John. “I have been made aware that an apology is owed to you.”
John frowned. “Father, whatever you feel was poorly done on your part…I said and did my own things. I was disrespectful. I ran away rather than dealing with my responsibilities and fixing our relationship. That is on me.”
“Perhaps you can both take partial blame,” Edward said. There was humor in his tone, but John knew that he was serious. And that he had a point.
“I apologize,” Father said. “For the part that I played. You cannot deny that I am…have always been…a man of strong opinions.”
“As am I. I ought to have listened to you more over the years.”
“You have been listening to me well this past month,” Father pointed out. “Since you came home you have done nothing but follow my orders. You have been the model son. I have not given you enough credit for that. Nor have I ever apologized for my behavior. Allow me to do so now.”
“Thank you,” John said. He honestly did not know what else to say. “And for whatever I did wrong…for all the ways that I was ungrateful. All the ways in which I disrespected you and hurt you. For running away, and all the grief that I caused because of it. I apologize. It was wrong of me and I would do anything to rectify it.”
Father’s hand grasped at the covers, as if he wished to reach out but could not. John sat down and took his father’s hand. It was so cold and clammy and weak. It held none of the strength that John expected.
“You are my son,” Father told him. “And even when I cursed your name—which I should not have done, but—even when anger overtook me, I cared for you. And now I can honestly say that I am also proud of you.
“You have behaved admirably this past month. I can see your care for Mountbank and for your family. You chose well in your intended wife and she has taken care to extol your virtues to me. In case I was unable to see them for myself. And she will match you well in life.”
John’s mind seized upon the fact that Miss Natalie had apparently extolled his virtues to his father.
Why would she do that? Surely there was no need. Unless…
He could not quite reconcile the idea that it had been mere charity or compassion that had led her to say that. Perhaps he could dare to hope that she did in fact care for him?
John shoved such thoughts aside. Not right now. There would be plenty of time later. When Father was recovered. Then he could think about what was going on between himself and Miss Natalie.
But now was not the time for romantic entanglements, either of a hopeful nature or a despairing one.
“The doctor should be here shortly,” Edward said. “He was scheduled to come back first thing in the morning.”
“Where is Emma?” Father asked, looking around.
“Miss Natalie said that she would ensure Emma was taken care of,” John answered.
Edward nodded. “I know that this is hard on her.”
“You are all talking as though this is a massive surprise to you.”
“It was a surprise to me,” John said. He was unable to completely keep the anger out of his voice. He should have been told of this possibility much sooner. He should have been made to come home at a much earlier date.
Of course, if he had been, he might not have met Miss Natalie. And even if he had he might not have been compelled to marry her.
He might never have gotten to know her.
The thought stung.
Emma entered the room. Miss Natalie was behind her, but only waited until she saw that all three children were assembled before she curtsied and silently took her leave.
John wanted to ask her to stay. But that would have only been indulging himself. He wanted her to be there for his own sake. That was not what this moment was about. It was about Father and his children. It was about the Ridgecleff family.
“My dear,” Father said, as Emma drew near to take his hand. “My sweetest.”
“Am I not sweet enough for you then, Father?” Edward teased.
“You are feeling better then, Father?” Emma asked.
Father sighed. “No, my dear. I feel a great weight on my chest. I fear it will only be lifted one way.”
John felt his own chest growing tight. Emma tightened her hold on Father’s hand. “You mustn’t say such things. You might be better yet!”
“There are times in life when you know things,” Father said. “Such as when you look at a person and know that you are in love with them. Or when you look at a person and know that they have lied to you. Or when you look outside and you know that it is going to rain, even if at that moment the sun is shining.
“I can feel it approaching, child. And I do not wish to fight it. I wish only to apologize for any wrongs I have committed and to remind you all of my affection for you.”
/> John wished that illness was something that he could fight. If a man impugned his sister’s honor he could duel the man. But he could not duel sickness. He could not fight old age.
Emma sniffled and pulled out her handkerchief. Father smiled. “Now, now, my dear. Don’t cry. I’ve lived quite a good life. And I am glad knowing that you will all be well taken care of.
“John shall handle things. And I now have faith that he will do so. Edward will enjoy his trip, I am sure. And be a bit more responsible about it than his brother.”
John ignored the slight, knowing it was not the time or place and not really caring when what his father said was true.
“And you will be happy, my dear.” Father patted Emma’s hand. “You will return to finish up your season and will find yourself a great husband. Of that I have no doubt.”
“I wish you would not speak as if it were so certain,” Emma protested.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” John called.
Miss Natalie entered, leading the doctor. “Here you are, sir,” she said. She gave John a small smile and a curtsy and then closed the door as she exited.
The doctor strode over to examine the earl. Father began to have an awful coughing fit as if on cue.
John looked over at his brother, who shook his head. John felt his own thoughts reflected in his brother’s face. For all that Emma protested… he could sense it coming.
The next few hours were difficult ones. Father’s fever got worse. Miss Natalie would flit in and out of the room, quiet but energetic. She made sure they all ate, having tea brought up to them. She managed the household—or rather John assumed she did. He never left Father’s side and when he tried to check with her, Miss Natalie told him not to worry about it and that everything was fine.
There were moments of lucidity from Father, but also moments in which it was clear the fever dictated what he saw and felt. There was little that anyone, even the doctor, could do. They could only wait it out.
Emma took it the hardest. She was the youngest and barely remembered Mother’s passing. She wept off and on and would not let go of Father’s hand.
At least, John thought, he and Father had reconciled before the end. At least there was that. Now he could say goodbye without a heavy conscience. Now he could be at peace as he sent Father on his way—and he knew that Father was at peace as well. Nothing had been left unsaid.